Something Real
by BetaReject
Summary: Money, power and prestige meant nothing when they were together. It was an ironic arrangement, a sanctuary that neither could fully appreciate. Amber was always too high to understand and Graverobber was just too tired to care. *Gramber*


**Warnings:** Contains strong language, suggestive sexual situations and very dark themes (mild hints of rape). This tale pertains to a het!pairing and may be considered offensive to some.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. None of it. Not even one of the lines in this tale which I blatantly ripped off from the movie ;)

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I**

Graverobber named her Amber Sweet after the tart golden candy he loved as a boy. Like Carmela Largo, it was sugary on the surface and bitter on the inside. She never asked him why he had chosen such a name and he never bothered to tell her.

One day while reading the news from his hovel, Graverobber saw Carmela gracing the front page. The blonde-haired beauty with the dark eyes was now but a memory. In fact, her entire visage had changed revealing her as a gothic beauty.

_Gone is Camilla Largo_ her smirk proudly announced. Beneath her freshly carved new features read 'Please welcome Gen-Co's up and coming songstress 'Amber Sweet'."

He did not know whether to be touched by the unspoken tribute, or terrified by its unspoken weight.

**II**

"Why _Graverobber_? What kind of shitty name is that?"

Carmela asked as the haze of zydrate began to set in. Her fishnet-clad legs straddled the grave robber's waist. Her eyes -currently violet- were beginning to gloss over as she met his dark orbs.

Lust was the most evident in his gaze. There were other emotions there too; sorrow, guilt and something else she could not understand. His eyes mirrored her own buried doubts and it unnerved her. Thankfully, the drug kicked in and everything around Carmela seemed to fad away. It was then that he spoke.

"The same reason you no longer wear your own flesh. We both needed something to hide behind."

If Carmela were capable of feeling anything, she would have been frightened by the revelation. Instead, all she felt was the need for silence. She pressed her lips against the Graverobber's own; a passionate reply that required no further words. What Amber wanted, Amber always got.

**III**

The greatest gift Carmela had ever received came not from the needle, the surgeon's knife, or anything money and power could afford. In fact, it was not tangible at all.

Luigi could not break it, nor could Pavi violate it. Not even her father could take it away.

Graverobber never explained why he gave it to her. She never bothered to ask. It did not matter. It was given freely, without a price or condition.

It was the perfect gift. The one gift she could flaunt and never share. It was hers and hers alone. She was _Amber Sweet_ and now no one could ever _touch_ her.

**IV**

Graverobber had only ever received one gift in his life. It was the one thing that could not be bought, or sold. It was small and it was fragile, but it was precious, because it belonged to him.

Amber Sweet had commemorated her father's passing through the charity auction of her latest _face. _  
It did not shock him to learn that the top three bidders had been murdered by Luigi. Equally anticipated was the fact Pavi _won_ the auction. The sick fuck now wore her face like a trophy.

What did surprise him was the ample donation that had been made to the charity by GenCo. It was almost twice as much as the initial highest bidder. The newspapers and magazines praised and fawned Pavi for his _generosity, _but Graverobber knew better.

She would never admit to it, and he would never ask. It was the first selfless act Amber had ever done in her life. It was also the first time that he felt hope.

**V**

On her hands and knees, Amber begged him for the sweet release of the _glow. _Graverobber would not refuse, he never did. It did not stop him from towering over her, watching as she degraded herself at his feet.

It was not the first time she desecrated herself for another; Amber knew it would not be the last. It did not matter; she was tired of the pain, the self-loathing and the fear. She did not want to care anymore and she did not want to feel.

She put in her time, made her promises and offered her body-even her soul-to Graverobber. She knew he would wait until the perfect moment, when the desperation and the need could no longer be hidden under the guise of seduction. Only then, would he succumb to her needs-as well as his own-and release her from it all.

In the end, not even Zydrate was enough to erase the sound of Luigi's laughter, or the feel of Pavi's sweaty palms clamped over her mouth, silencing her screams.

**VI**

Amber Sweet was on her hands and knees before him. Crawling and writhing, her plastic body promised to answer his every perverse fantasy, while empty invitations fell from her newly carved lips.

He knew the truth behind the act; they both did. Amber did it to convince herself that she was still in charge. Graverobber did it because it was easier to feign ignorance than face the facts.

He would wave the gun and she would flaunt her sensuality like a masterpiece shown at an art gallery. Flirtations would ensue, witty remarks would be exchanged, and in the end, they would both get what they desired. It was not what they needed.

Graverobber told himself that one day he would end the facade, just not tonight.

**VII**

Amber hated Graverobber for the power he held over her. She hated the way he could bring her to her knees with a simple wave of his Zydrate gun. Ultimately, she hated him because the cretin knew her better than anyone else.

She used threaten him, saying she could ruin him without even trying. Graverobber would always smirk and remind her that his demise would only destroy her. Their fates were too intertwined for either to hold any power over the other.

Amber loved Graverobber for the escape he gave her. The way he showed, without showing that he cared. She loved him because he was the only one who did not need the_masks_ to survive. When she was around him Amber did not need them either.

**VIII**

Graverobber hated himself for never being able to turn Amber Sweet away. He was no innocent fool; he knew her tricks just as well as she knew his games. It never stopped them from playing. Whenever she was in his presence all _masks_ were off.

Money, power and prestige meant nothing when they were together. It was an ironic arrangement, a sanctuary that neither could fully appreciate. She was always too high to understand and he was just too tired to care.

Amber taught him more about himself than anyone else. Graverobber would never tell her that only in her company could he be himself. Nor would he ever admit that he loved her for it.

With Rotti's death came unexpected changes in Amber Sweet. The charity auctions for her _Opera Face_ and the events that followed were only the beginning. It brought an unexpected change in him as well.

**IX**

"Your shitting me!" Graverobber said as he burst into laughter.

Amber slapped his face and Graverobber's mockery faded as shock set in. She knew he would not refuse her offer; the man loved his money as much as she loved _the glow. _

The silence that followed was deafening while the pulsating pain of her body was all consuming. Her body ached, her hands shook. Amber would kill to feel the numb warmth that only Zydrate could offer. That was not why she was here.

"How much?"

"Enough to take you there," she replied.

Graverobber's acceptance of the offer was expected. The emotion she saw in his dark eyes was not. Neither was the feel of his calloused hands gripping her own shaking manicured fingers.

**X**

Zydrate withdrawal was never pretty to behold. Seeing the plastic form of Amber Sweet going through it was even more ugly. Ms. Sweet looked like death. No, even the dead looked better.

The possibility of her survival was slim. Very few _glow_ junkies ever cleaned off zydrate and lived to tell about it. As he placed a cold cloth on her fevered brow Graverobber was caught off guard by the concern felt for the heiress.

He wondered for the umpteenth time why he was even there. It certainly was not worth the money. No amount could possibly be worth putting up with Amber's shit. It would be so easy to access GeneCo's millions through Ms. Sweet's accounts-take the money and run.

Suddenly Amber's eyes opened. A weak smile crept onto her plastic features while her stolen eyes studied him intently. Her smile was perversely sincere, as was the gratitude he saw in her gaze.

It almost made her look beautiful and it almost made him feel alive. He never realized just how much he missed it until now.

Graverobber told himself that he would remain here a little longer; to work out the _details_ of how he was going to get GeneCo's wealth and make his escape.

He never left her side.


End file.
